Last Call
by Spooky Bibi
Summary: Sebastian doesn't like David. He hates him. Specifically, he hates how Dave, with just a few random meetings at Scandals, managed to get so much out of him. Set during OMW. Warnings: sex, language, drug and alcohol use, references to suicide. Written a little late for Smythofsky week theme: Scandals .
1. Chapter 1

You wouldn't suspect it from the outside (or the inside for that matter), but the bathrooms at Scandals are quite nice. Classy, clean. Not ostentatious, of course, but roomy and modern. Given all that goes down there, it's a good thing. Random hook-ups are always better in a big stall, with the walls and the door going from floor to ceiling. The immense counter and wide sinks are appreciated too.

Sebastian used to think that those particular restrooms held no secrets to him. That everything you can imagine to do in that space, he'd done it, in every corner. He isn't entirely right, because he's never done this before. Here or elsewhere.

He rushes to the bathroom, nearly ripping the handle when he pulls the door to him. He slides in, pushes the door closed with his back and fumbles to lock it behind him. Never mind that someone else might need to come in here, they'll just find another option, he figures.

It's silent here. Not much to keep him from hearing his ragged breathing, building up to a cacophony in his head. His hands shoot to his ears, pressing uselessly. No matter how hard, it's not enough to keep the raspy sound out.

It's burning his lungs, scorching his throat. _"__Relax, __Focus, __Breathe. __Relax, __Focus, __Breathe. __Relax, __Focus, __Breathe.__" _The mantra is great to keep his asthmatic tendencies under control and prevent a full-blown attack. Usually. Tonight it's not quite doing it.

Dizziness spreads like wildfire in him. He screws his eyelids shut, unable to bear the sight of the room spinning any longer, but it's too late.

The unruly respiration, the frantic beat of his heart, they all merge into the most intense nausea he's ever felt. His eyes snap back open. Within a microsecond, he's bent over the shockingly white porcelain, heaving. His whole body clenches and a whimper escapes his lips. No way can he hold it back.

Sebastian Smythe doesn't throw up. He's in control, immune to such primitive behavior. Tonight, his distressed body disagrees and the entire content of his stomach comes up. He lurches forward, sputtering desperately, and tears breach his closed eyelids under the effort, making them flutter open. When he looks up in a last attempt to regain some semblance of composure, his reflection shocks him to his core.

His eyes look like agitated ponds, patches of red are marring his cheeks and a sheer coat of perspiration coats his entire face, down to his neck. Terrified, and quite messed up, that's how he looks.

Does it matter, right now? No, of course not. However, the sight actually helps, such a surprise that it stills his breathing, almost instantly. Never before has he been able to control a panic attack so well.

He fixes his double in the mirror, lips trembling. "Damn it, Dave. Damn you." he mutters. A shadow goes over his face. "I'm not sorry. I don't care. I'm not sorry. I'm not sorr…" Words are running freely now and he can't even control them anymore. He presses his lips tightly together. Finally the rant is kept at bay.

A buzz in his pocket. Blaine, surely. The texts, update on the situation, have been non-stop for the past half-hour. Enough. He fishes the phone out, contemplates it for a second. _11 __new __messages._

He sighs, runs an unsure hand over his face. "Fuck that." he says, and lets the iPhone fall into the sink. One twist of the hand and a torrent of cold water rains over it. He flicks his palm under the flow, splashes some on his face and refreshes his mouth before turning the faucet off.

The drowned phone is now silent and he is grateful for that. It reminds him no more; the black screen can't tell him what he doesn't want to know. It's true, he doesn't want to know. He has no interest whatsoever in being kept informed of his state, of whether or not he made it. He doesn't need to know if he regained consciousness, if he talked, if... Suddenly, all is a bit blurry, the pit in his stomach evolving into an overall weakness. The floor is becoming more and more appealing, so he sits down, using the counter as a comforting support.

He draws a deep breath. _Forget __it. __Forget __him. __So __what __if __he __tried __to __k__… __It__'__s __not __your __fault. __It__'__s __nothing __to __you. __You __don__'__t __know __him. __You __don__'__t __owe __him __anything. __He __doesn__'__t __mean __anything __to __you. __He __doesn__'__t __even __know __you._

_Except __he __does. 4 encounters and he figured you out, completely._


	2. Chapter 2

The first time Sebastian met Dave, it was late September, a slow Thursday night. He wasn't supposed to be out but really, what else was there to do in fucking Ohio? It was bad enough that his parents had decided to send him to the most remote private school they could find, he was supposed to just stay home and study? No way. So he'd decided to check out the local gay spot. Assess the fauna if you will. The Dalton boys, he knew them too well already.

Disappointment was all he found. Sure, he never expected to find a thriving, hip club, but seriously? Three forty-something men playing pool and one chubby boy at the bar? Kitschy '80's music and questionable lighting? It was worse than he'd envisioned.

He headed for the bar. Might as well start to get drunk right away if it was the only fun he was going to get.

"Long Island Iced Tea" he ordered. He wasn't going to trust this place with anything more refined. Once the barman had nodded his acknowledgment, he turned his attention to the guy at his left. Large, silent, sullen even, no fun, so not his type. All deduced in the three seconds it took to look him up and down.

It didn't mean he didn't have some potential. The guy was obviously used to the place. No harm in trying to get some intel from him.

Listening was his forte, his secret weapon. When you were the new kid everywhere, moving every six months, you didn't make waves. You kept quiet, observed the dynamics and most of all, listened to everyone and everything they said. By the fifth grade, he had figured out that people only wanted to talk about themselves. They would do so to anyone willing to listen, even more gladly to the nice, rich kid they wanted to impress. Then, without them even realizing, he would have all the ammunition to make them dance as he wished, which was always the second part of his plan. He had perfected this method to an art.

"Hello there." he started, low and slow. "I'm Sebastian." He leaned forward on the counter, one foot on the railing, the other stretched behind. A big grin, along with the suggestive pose, should have been enough to compel a positive response.

Not from this guy apparently, because all he got was a side look and a shrug.

"And you are..." he insisted.

"Karofsky. Well, Dave." the other replied flatly.

"Dave." Sebastian repeated. "Wonderful. So tell me, _Dave_, is it always like this in here?" He took a long, careful sip of his drink while waiting for the answer.

"I guess."

The smile disappeared from Sebastian's face. One thing he could never stand was apathy, especially when he was so actively trying himself.

"Come on… You can do better than this, Grizzly bear. What's the layout? Twinks, repressed married guys? Drag queens?" he pressed, nudging him with his shoulder.

"Only on Wednesdays." Dave replied. A small smile curled up his lips, although his gaze never left his beer.

"See, that wasn't so hard!" Sebastian said enthusiastically. "Now, just to be clear, you're not my type." he quickly added.

That last sentence did make Dave look at him, finally. "What? Where did that come from?" the guy asked.

Sebastian scoffed, took another sip. Building up the suspense was part of the routine, part of the act. It brought better control to any relationship. If you could have the attention, you could have the upper hand.

"Just establishing ground rules. I've been the object of too many unwanted affections in the past, especially when I'm the one initiating contact. I'm taking precautions, that's all." Another sip, a dedicated lick over his wet lips, a sideways glance.

"Oh, OK." Dave replied. Strangely, he didn't blush at the display, just gave him a firm, genuine _happy_ smile.

It gave him a weird twitch in his stomach, and Sebastian decided right then and there that Dave was interesting. Refreshingly different. Not in a romantic way of course, but he could be someone to rely on eventually. Someone worth getting to know.

A danger, basically.

He smiled in return, a mere flash. Dave kept on smiling, in that open, sincere way. What was that?

Definitely, that boy meant trouble ahead, he had to be avoided.

He put a bill on the counter without even checking if it was too much for his drink and walked away. So what if Dave wouldn't understand. If Sebastian wasn't messing with the guy or seducing him, he had nothing to do with him. Dave was too… innocent, straightforward. For reasons unknown, Sebastian couldn't bring himself to fuck with his head. The choice was clear then. No contact. He found a secluded spot near the jukebox and settled there.

Scandals filled up pretty nicely soon after. He guessed he had just been a little early. It turned out the population coming in remained boring though. Time passed, he multiplied the drinks, since there wasn't anything better to do. By 2 am, he was beyond drunk, bitter and generally dissatisfied with the evening and his life in general.

He stumbled outside, barely making it to the curb before collapsing on the asphalt. Head between his knees, he took deep breaths and attempted to clear his head. He needed to be at least coherent when the cab would arrive.

It must have took what, a full minute, for someone to come annoy him. The price to pay for being a hot mess and normally, he wouldn't have minded. This time, he just wished it wouldn't have been a skanky 35 years-old who smelled weird.

The guy kept asking him luring questions. He responded with quick negations, except the lack of wit in them (his head wouldn't come up with any) made them ineffective. It got to the point where the creep had his arm looped around Sebastian's slumped shoulders. Under the influence as he was, there was no energy to push him away.

In the end he didn't have to.

"Hey, …Sebastian, right?"

Sebastian looked up groggily. Craning his neck over the guy's arm, he caught a glimpse of a tall figure standing behind them. It was that brooding, _(sweet)_boy from the bar… Dave?

"Hum.. What?" he replied in a thick, wavy voice. He didn't really have any control over it. Nor did he have any over his unwanted suitor, whose hand was now travelling down his arm and sneaking around his waist to bring him closer.

He knew something was wrong with the situation, wondered what was going on with Creepy and Dave and why was everything swaying so much?

He didn't have to wonder for very long. He looked around and as soon as his foggy eyes locked with Dave's, it all went very fast.

Dave marching up to him and ripping the guy off from him, tossing him several feet away… He was vaguely aware of it as it happened. He did hear Dave yell something unintelligible and immediately after he was right next to him.

"Whoa." he muttered. Suddenly he felt very tired and leaned on Dave's shoulder. It was pretty comfortable, quite broad and full. His eyes closed reflexively.

"You OK man? That guy seemed pretty handsy…"

"Mmh? Yeah… Uh-uh." he replied, off-handed. He was drifting away, he knew it and didn't want to care. The last part of him that was still remotely sober reminded him that he had to be awake for that cab. He just couldn't manage it very well. It didn't matter, Dave seemed like he understood, just staying put and silent and there.

Thankfully he didn't have to wait very long. A car pulled into the parking lot maybe 2 minutes later and stopped in front of him. Dave shook him gently, helped him get up and opened the door for him. Sebastian slumped inside and uttered his address to the driver. How he paid the cab fare and made his way to his room would always remain blurry in his memories. He did remember that his last thought before going dozing off was that he never thanked Dave.


	3. Chapter 3

He didn't see him again until that evening with Blaine and Kurt. Strange, considering he was there at least twice a week, and so was Dave, from what he'd heard. The only explanation he'd come up with was that they expected different outcome from their evening, so they weren't trolling the same nights.

He didn't make contact with Karofsky that time. Too late, too awkward to bring that first meeting back, he decided to let it go. Rather, he checked on him sporadically during the evening, always from a distance. Just making sure he wasn't interfering with his work on Blaine. He smiled when he saw that Dave was far more interested in Kurt than anybody else. _Good. __Continue __to __distract__ the little f__airy. _Who knew Dave could be such a helpful wingman, even involuntarily?

Too bad it was all for nothing. Two hours later, Sebastian found himself saying goodbye to a very inebriated Blaine and a seriously annoyed Kurt. While it was not a cause for heartbreak, it was a setback, an upset. Sebastian did not like feeling upset. Especially on a Saturday night, when for once there was a swarm of potentials in the club. His charm was far too dependent on his mood, if he didn't do anything to change his current state, it would be a dangerous first: no score.

While watching his prospect waddle away, he palmed his pocket, satisfied to hear the crinkling of the plastic bag. The safety solution, always there. He turned around and walked confidently towards the back of the bar. His mind was already on the wonderfulness to come.

He entered the bathroom, listened intently for a few seconds. Nobody, perfect. The last stall was his favorite, a little dimmer than the others, more intimate in a way. Softly, he closed the door behind him and almost reverently pulled the slim bag from his pocket. Not much left but enough for tonight. He opened it, tilted it slightly to make to powder accumulate in one corner. The rest was a well-rehearsed, comfortable routine.

Balling his fist, gently tapping the bag until a thin line was sprinkled across the back of his hand.

Inhaling, slow and deep, until there was nothing but a few particles left.

Then the best part. That warm trepidation rising, so good… How it both trickled down his spine and rose from his feet, or so it seemed…

He lapped up the sensations for the precious few seconds it lasted. Too soon, it became the usual cheer and excitation. A familiar happiness. He let out a shuddering sigh, and finally opened his eyes.

Everything seemed so much more defined after a hit. Lines clearer, colors perkier, it was like the world got fascinating all of a sudden. He chuckled, shoulders shaking, and quickly wiped off the remnants of drug off his hand with a sweaty palm. Messily, he exited the stall, tearing off some toilet paper on his way out. And stopped dead in his tracks, the bundle of tissue right under his nose.

He was not alone anymore.

David was at the sink, his eyes fixed on Sebastian's reflection in the wall mirror. Sebastian was as surprised as the jock seemed, albeit he got over it far more quickly. He smirked, advanced to the counter and started to erase the remaining smears. Ostentatiously.

"Good evening Dave. Having fun tonight?" he asked. Damn, his tone was so funny-sounding. He snorted at his own solemnity, dabbing his nose compulsively.

Dave cleared his throat. "I guess." he replied.

Sebastian watched him avoid his gaze and hurriedly grab some paper towels. Another giggle escaped him.

"Clearly not as much as you." the jock snapped back.

Sebastian didn't pick up the acidic remark, his attention already back on the task at hand. Image is everything, right? Couldn't let all those cute boys out there see his secret pick-me-up.

In his murky mind, Karofsky was long gone, which explained why he nearly jumped out of his skin at the question that came next.

"Coke, man? Really?"

Dave was at the door, half-outside really, but he was still looking at him. In the midst of his high, Sebastian had trouble interpreting his expression. Maybe it was concern, or just curiosity? In the end, he decided he didn't care. Like he didn't care about Dave's opinion.

"Yep, Grizzly bear. Old-fashioned coke. I'm not into the whole pill thing. You're gonna sell me out? Or, _no_, you want some? No luck there, I just finished it all." he sneered.

"Christ Sebastian, no!" Dave shot back. He stepped back into the restroom, closed the door behind him. Then just stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Sebastian lost patience. Besides, he was all done. Throwing the tissue in the trash, he spun on his heels and rested his hip against the counter.

"Well, in that case, let me pass. There are a lot of delicious men here tonight, I'm behind schedule and I don't intend to waste any time on you." he said rapidly. Damn, he could feel the bubbles of ecstasy dissipate ever so fast. There really wasn't any time to spare.

David side-stepped out of the way, presenting the cleared out passage with an ironic gesture. With unsure steps, Sebastian walked towards the door, only to have his wrist grabbed by Dave at the last second.

"What now?" he asked. Their eyes met and it killed his buzz. Just a little more. Just enough to piss him off. The fact that Dave clearly seemed incapable to answer him only aggravated him further.

He tried to yank himself free, but God, Dave had a strong grip. Twisting his arm upward, in any direction really, didn't loosen it in the slightest. Anger boiled his blood and he pulled hard, only to provoke a sharp burning sensation and a stifled cry of pain as a result.

That actually did the trick, Dave releasing him as soon as he had let out the groan.

"Why, Sebastian?" he wondered softly.

Sebastian looked at him, bewildered. _Why? Why?_

A shaky hand through his hair did nothing to calm the rambling thoughts that had started to bounce around in his head. Funny, he thought it actually would.

"Why? Why do you care, for one?" he blurted out. Dave simply looked back at him, something akin to pity now in his eyes.

Damn, now he was getting pissed again. And no more help in his pocket… He could barely focus as it was but now, under Karofsky's heavy scrutiny, it was even more difficult. He shifted around, making bigger strides and before long he was pacing the entire bathroom.

"I can do whatever the fuck I want. It's none of your business. I don't justify myself, not to you, not to anyone." He was rambling by then. That tended to happen, when the pleasure of the high was starting to wear, leaving only the jitters and an awkward emptiness inside.

"Not to you." he repeated. "This is way out of your league. Stay out of it, out of my way, Karofsky. You're... not that kind of guy, so just... Leave me alone."

He pushed him away, with what he believed to be decisive force but in reality was laughable weakness. Back on the dance floor, there he began to forget. Sure, not much of a buzz was left but the throbbing music and sweaty, writhing bodies contributed in drowning out the image of the commiserated boy that, for what he was aware of, never left the bathroom.


	4. Chapter 4

The third time they saw each other... God, he really wished he could forget that one.

He used to believe it was all Dave's fault. Come to really think about it, it was more a combination of things. A snowball effect.

The weather was the first culprit. Uncommonly warm, so he didn't bring a jacket that night. So he had nothing on but his shirt. No possible replacement.

Second was the 2 for 1 special on his favourite shot. Made him down 14 of them over he course of an hour. For a guy his shape, it was more than enough to impair reflexes.

Third to blame was that over-enthusiastic guy, determined to impress Sebastian on the dance floor. Except over-the-top moves were not meant to be performed with a full pint in hand.

So really, while Dave did knock into the dancer and made him spill the entire content of the glass on Sebastian's pure silk shirt, he was not the sole factor involved in that mess.

As soon as the cold, stinging liquid poured over his chest, he slapped Dave hard across the face. Instincts, you know, and then he just rushed to the bathroom. He never was that attached to his clothes, but there was a limit. He had no plan to smell of stale beer and ruined fabric for the rest of the evening. Stumbling through the crowd, thinking only of how he would make himself somewhat presentable, he never noticed that Dave, red-faced and mumbling apologies, was hot on his heels.

Again, in retrospect, it was more his own fault. In his drunken state, he didn't check before unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it off and dumping it in the sink. He would have done so, normally. He would have locked the door first, secured his surroundings before exposing himself so. He would have protected his secret.

Tough shit, because he didn't. Worse, it took him a full minute to notice Dave. When, looking in the mirror, he caught sight of him in the open doorway, he knew it was too late. He'd seen _it_. He grabbed the soaked garment, tried to hold it up his chest to cover it. Foolishly, awkwardly, unsuccessfully.

With three steps, Dave was standing right in front of him, so fucking close it scared the breath away from Sebastian. They stared at each other. Without saying a word, without asking for permission, Dave grabbed the dripping wet shirt, deposited back in the sink. Then he looked down.

Never before had Sebastian let someone see it, outside of his parents and doctors. It was tricky, involved some ingenuity when it came to gym class (he would change in the bathroom, dress back up in the shower stall) or sex (he'd stick to hook-ups, they don't require to fully undress). In any case, it was a first, frightening, like any _first_ can be.

Still silent, Dave lifted one hand and let it course over the puckered flesh. It was a fleeting touch, not quite a caress, more like an exploration. Sebastian was frozen in place, in a fog that blocked out every protest, every sensation, leaving him nothing but the pungent smell of alcohol, the cotton feel of his mouth and the burning that Dave's brushing fingertips were causing over his scar. He couldn't explain why, but he was just letting him discover it as he wished.

It lasted what, maybe 20 seconds? The time to feel every inch of the damaged tissue that ran down his front, from his left shoulder to his navel. After, he simply removed his hand, took a step back. Finally looked back up to Sebastian's terrified face.

"I'm sorry." Dave spoke softly.

Whether he was apologizing for the scar, for touching him or for his previous mishap, Sebastian had no idea. His mouth opened, no words came out. They both stood still, the sound of the running water giving a vaguely darker background noise to the scene. Dave snapped out of it first, approached the sink and started to rinse out the shirt thoroughly. It brought Sebastian back, such an absurd spectacle really (the big jock doing laundry in a gay bar toilet sink?). He crossed his arms protectively, cleared his throat. Walls inside had crumbled, he tried to build them back up, starting with regaining control over the situation.

Dave didn't react to his cough, kept methodically pumping hand soap on the shirt and scrubbing it. Ruining it basically. Sebastian chuckled weakly. "You do realize you're destroying this, right?"

Dave looked back at him in the mirror, without replying. Sebastian could literally feel the atmosphere become tenser, and knew that it wasn't going to be that easy. His shoulders slumped and he leaned against the tiled wall, welcoming its coolness. It was helping with the whole emotionally destroyed/seriously drunk situation he was in.

Dave turned the faucet off. He turned around slowly and once more, Sebastian's breathing stopped abruptly. Something about Dave's face, it was just so open, it showed such…solicitude. Not a sentiment he was used to be directed at him. The inevitable question followed, but he was ready for it. He almost wanted it.

"What happened to you Sebastian…" Dave asked. Hesitance was so plain in his voice, it made Sebastian want to tell it all.

"It was a dumb accident during summer vacation, when I was 15." He let this one phrase slip.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"_Y-Yeah."_

"_We were in Positano for a month. My parents have this house near the sea, we go there every year. Anyway, there was this party on the beach one night. Domenic and I were the only ones near the bonfire, the others were all around drinking or messing around in the water. Then this guy walked by and dumped something in the fire. We didn't see what it was and didn't even care. I mean, everybody used it as a trashcan. Then we heard a fizzy sound and next thing I knew my T-shirt was in flames._

_Domenic pushed me in the sand and I rolled a few times. I don't remember much after that. I woke up in the hospital, all bandaged up. Domenic came to see me 3 days after I woke up. He was my boyfriend. Maybe I should have mentioned that earlier. Anyway, he was all serious and told me he wasn't ready to handle this. Then he just left me there. I was allowed to go home 3 weeks later. Since then, they did a dozen surgeries and it still looks like shit. You're the first one outside of my family who's seen it. I'm scared any guy who sees me without a shirt will just… run away, grossed out. Like he did. Guess it's true, you never forget your first, especially if he was a jerk."_

That was what he had wanted to say, exactly like this, all in one erratic jumble. It didn't happen. This time, he kept quiet once more, merely playing the speech in his head while Dave looked, no, detailed him through confused eyes.

God, he had really wanted to spill his guts. He was the most surprised by this impulse, to take a chance on this weird guy, always on the periphery of his life, and get a load off his chest. He wasn't sure why this one. Sebastian didn't share, he didn't talk. Over the years, among the hundreds of people he came to know, he never felt like opening up to any of them, not even to Domenic. Although he did come close, Dom never pierced Sebastian all the way through. So why was Dave about to? More importantly, why would he want him to?

"No, Karofsky."

His heart sank, his hands got clammy. Dave nodded, took a step back. He started to regret his words but it was too late to backtrack.

The jock handed him his wet, useless shirt. "Hope the beer comes out." he said. Sebastian took it gently, tried to smile to thank him. Dave wasn't looking at him anymore so it didn't work.

The next move actually surprised Sebastian. Dave, very quickly, removed his own shirt and presented it to him.

"Here. It won't fit but at least you'll have something on."

Dave was staring once again, straight at Seb. A stare Seb found hard to return. He swallowed hard, muttered a _thank you_ as he took the black shirt. He eyed Dave's thin undershirt. "Will you… Are you going to be OK with just that?" he asked softly. Indifferently, of course.

Dave shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Sure. I was leaving anyway. Bye, Sebastian."

So he didn't give up first, Dave left right then. Seb didn't relish the tremendous solitude of Scandals' bathroom that followed this departure as much as usual. The surreal events kept playing over and over in his head. Dave, being so fucking… attentive. After the last time, when he pushed him away, it made even less sense. Besides, he wasn't nowhere near a state allowing him to understand the jock's attitude. So he did what he could, what he always did when he couldn't resolve something. He fled, minutes after Dave did.


	5. Chapter 5

The fourth time was the breaking point, the one he should have seen coming. It happened way too soon after their… moment. It doesn't matter that it was weeks ago. The images easily resurface from the far away corner of his memory. They're tenacious ones.

Dave, leaning so damn close to his face. Even if he tried to ignore him, his perfect peripheral vision made sure that he saw every detail of the outline of the other boy's face. He looked quite different than usual. He was smiling, for one. Since when did Karofsky smile, at least recently?

"So, how do you get a guy to like you?"

"You, get a guy? Please." Sebastian laughed. David Karofsky, hitting on him. Like he had a chance. It was endearing, almost, if it wasn't also hopeless and pathetic.

"Why? What's wrong with me?" Dave asked, surprised.

"First off, you're about 100 pounds overweight. Quit waxing your eyebrows, you look like Liberace. In fact, just stay in the closet buddy." A casual reply. Hell, he even toned down the snark. One semi-comforting pat on the shoulder and he headed for his usual refuge. If that was how the evening was about to turn, desperate _(unsafe)_ acquaintances lurking around, he certainly needed a little powdered help.

He knew Dave was right behind him, he could hear the loud, obvious steps. Couldn't the guy take a hint? He turned around, the words "Not interested, Karofsky." on the tip of his tongue.

Next thing he knew, he was pushed, in a manner that meant no joke. Trapped within seconds, between the dark walls and the different kind of rampart that was Dave's shape. The jock's arms, firmly planted on either side of his narrow shoulders, left him no possible escape. What was up with that guy tonight? Couldn't he stay in that nice little niche he'd built, where Sebastian had him all figured out?

Dave equaled shy, closeted jock. Not confrontational flirt.

"Get a hint, Dave." he said with a smirk. It wasn't his usual one. He was off his game, the whole thing was off actually.

"You get off on that bullshit, Seb? Is this your entertainment tonight?" Dave growls. "I see you at work on everyone, but I thought we had... I don't know. Like an unspoken understanding. I don't mess with your games; you lose the bitch attitude with me. After everything, it would be the least you could do. I kept stuff to myself you know." Dave's tone had grown dangerously serious. Not menacing, as far as he could tell. The fact that he couldn't interpret it any further was disturbing.

Sebastian swallowed hard. Like it or not, Dave had a point. He was… uncomfortably right. Once again, what the hell? Was he to concede to Karofsky, of all people? Somebody who didn't even try to play along? No fucking way.

"You're the one that cheated first." Dave arched an eyebrow, silently questioning. "With you hitting on me? Trust me, I did you a favor, turning you down like that. I normally don't even bother with the advice before dropping the _no_." Sebastian explained.

Dave leaned closer, darker. "Oh, for fuck's sake, I was NOT hitting on you, I asked you a simple question! Not my problem if your twisted mind saw something more underneath that, so quit provoking me! You want the gloves to come off, Smythe? You want to go there? Fine." He got even nearer, spitting the words in his ear. "I was just having a good night, and you fucking ruined it. It was shitty of you to say all that, even if that's how you see me."

It wasn't a voice anymore, it had become a snarling growl. "I don't know why I even tried being decent with you. You want the truth? Want me to tell you that you're picking up a new guy to fuck every week not because you want to, but because you can't do better? Because you're never gonna go any further than quickies in a bar or an alley? Come on, let's face it. Who would want someone so _disgusting_, with a scar like yours, for anything real? Is that the honesty you want today?"

Sebastian's breath hitched in his throat. Speechless, that was new for him. The mist in his eyes was a novelty too. He steeled himself, raised both hands and shoved Dave away. "Fuck, that's a new low, and I know a little about that. Fuck you, Karofsky. Fuck. You." he said. No reward for originality here. It only stressed him more to hear how shaky, pitiful and ineffective his words sounded, but he could already feel his barriers coming back up slowly, to his relief.

"You wish, Seb." Dave dropped.

And that was all it took. The verbal abuse, he could take it, harsh as it had gotten. The blatant rejection, that was beyond his not yet renewed resistance. His constant was his success rate. Despite that… _thing _he hid carefully, he was always getting the guy. Nobody said _no_ or flat out said they weren't interested. He was the one to decline offers, never,**never** the other way around.

His hand came up again, grasped Dave's neck and pulled him roughly to him. _I'll show him,_ he blindly thought.

Dave was inexperienced, to say the least. For a few seconds, it was all sloppy, teeth clanging, lips smashing unevenly, saliva smearing. Weird. Whether it was the surprise or the fact that he was not used to it, Dave was in no way fighting. At first.

After a minute of heated embrace, he did pull away, an air along the lines of angered confusion on his face. "Wha… Wait." he mumbled, one hand on the wall, stabilizing him. His head dropped, came back up again. "You're a piece of work Sebastian Smythe." he laughed breathlessly.

They stared at each other, the tipping point inching closer. "So? You're gonna let that stop you Karofsky? Big, bad Dave, you're gonna refuse me? 'Cause no one can." Sebastian said huskily.

Effectively, the moment fizzled out, just as Dave chuckled at the retort "Cute, Seb, but trust me, I can. And I seem to recall a certain Blaine who managed to pull it off too. I bet that line works wonders, usually. I may not be a player like you, but I sure ain't gonna be impressed by that little display. I know better. I also know you. Actually, anyone who knows you in the slightest can walk away from that show you put on."

It was like a slap in the face. He actually recoiled upon hearing those words. It was just a 3 seconds delay however. He lunged forward, only to be stopped by Dave's palm against his chest.

"Don't even try Seb. You're not going to get anywhere with that act. Not with me."

"Act? You think I'm doing my _thing_ right now?" He swatted away Dave's hand. "I'm not playing anymore David! I stopped playing a long time ago, with you anyway. No, you know what? I don't think I ever played with you." Squinted eyes, a bittersweet smile lurking on his lips. Impersonating the "honest guy". Problem was, David wasn't having any of it.

Dave laughed. Loudly, infuriatingly so. "Sure, you're not playing... _'Cause no one can!"_ he repeated mockingly. "Gimme me a fucking break. Everything you do is calculated. Even this so-called genuine attitude you're trying to pull off right now. I've seen you at work."

He couldn't say the words he wanted to throw at Dave. Not entirely. "So-cal… You… Fu…" It came out of nowhere and took him by surprise. He hadn't had an attack in months and, while he could never forget how it started, he wasn't prepared for it then.

_My pumps are at home_. The thought immediately amplified his symptoms. Soon, he was gasping for air, silently pleading Dave to help him. He had no choice, his hands were jutting around incoherently and the red veil obscuring his vision was getting more opaque by the second.

Thankfully Dave grasped the situation in a second. He lead him to the bathroom, sit him on the toilet and only left him the time it took to wet some paper tissue. Some trying minutes later, after many reassuring words and swipes of the cold towels all over his face and neck, Sebastian was back in control of his breathing, enough at least to talk.

"Get out, Karofsky." he rasped. "I don't want you here."

"What a way to thank me." Dave immediately countered. He stayed put, pile of damp towels in hand.

"I feel like it's all I ever say to you. Go. Away."

"No. I'm tired of this bullshit. You always hiding away."

"Says the biggest closet case ever." Sebastian huffed. _The nerve of this guy_ he thought. Judging him, how dared him?

"Fuck you. Besides you said I should stay there, didn't you? Anyway, I'm coming out the way that's right for me. What you do…"

"Is none of your business."

"It is. This bar might just be a hunting ground for you, but to me it's important. It's become my home. As long as we don't clear out whatever's going on here, it'll only get worse. I won't let you spoil this place for me. Hell, I'll even start if you want."

Dave paused. "Look, Seb, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

Sebastian forced his smile to return and did his best to color it apologetic. His throat might have been burning like hell but he still got the words out.

"Of course you did mean it. You don't even know how to bitch properly. I'm sure you always say what you mean or you just don't say it. It doesn't matter. It's not the point either. Just leave. We'll go back to ignoring each other, it'll work fine for both of us."

"Not for me. Not after everything."

"What everything? Why do you even care? No one does. We're not friends or anything. You think you came up with some great insight tonight, with something I didn't already know? Think I'm not fully aware that I'm a douche, a slut, just trying to make up for this shit?" he cried, gesturing to his chest. "Any fucking way I can?"

"What-"

Sebastian looked up. At that moment, he didn't have to pretend being choked up. The tightness was real in his voice, the harshness as well.

"Fuck, you are really behind, you know. This life, this whole situation, it was never meant to be. I'm a Smythe. That comes with a specific destiny. I'm supposed to spend money carelessly, to party and screw all around the world before settling down and becoming the next great lawyer. Getting third degree burns, spending 3 weeks in intensive care, having my first boyfriend dump me because he just can't deal with how I look. Not part of the plan. Ending up in Ohio, with a therapist that sucks, with a head so messed up my grades suck just as much, not supposed to happen either. So yes, I fuck around to forget it all. Nothing new there."

"I'll say it for the last time. Leave now."

He was shaking again. Figured. It was buried deep, but never deep enough. Never so far that he could be casual about it. It's not like he'd had the practice of talking about it too. While ordering people around was his usual way, there was nothing normal with how he had just laid everything there in the open.

Dave was silent. Not the smallest sound had come out of him during Sebastian's tirade. While he had been silent, he was by no mean inactive. He turned around, closed the cabin's door completely and locked it. Facing Sebastian again, he reached around and let the towels drop on the toilet tank, took hold of Seb's trembling hands and lifted him to his feet.

There was something so decided in his movements. It was unavoidable. Sebastian could do nothing but let him lead. Like the last time they were in this room together, the quiet power of Dave was rendering his obsolete. He didn't protest, didn't fight when Dave carefully unbuttoned his shirt. His chest was exposed, he didn't make a move to cover it, nor did he try to remove Dave's hands once they were flat against his pecs. They were still a bit damp and cool from the towels and they calmed down his heartbeat.

Still no words were spoken. Their eyes were eloquent enough.

Sebastian's were pleading, tiredly so. He knew they were. Pleading for what, that he still couldn't decide. He wanted Dave to go on, or to make it all better, or to leave, or to let him leave. Or to do all of the above.

Dave's eyes were trying. Just trying. To catch his shifty glances and stop them. To guess his state of mind. To help him. That attempt alone was enough to scare him to death.

Dave took a deep breath, Sebastian mimicked him. They smiled faintly, as if a strange connection had been made with this simple respiration.

It only felt natural for Sebastian to resume the conversation. "You win, Dave. No more shit from me. Don't expect any more though." He still felt too unsure of himself to risk a bigger commitment. Dave had gotten so far already…

"It's a start." With these words, Dave let his hands glide away, turned around and opened the door. He did look back at Seb before leaving. "Sounds stupid, coming from me to you, but I think I have to tell you anyway. You're fucking beautiful Sebastian. All of you is."

In a million years, Sebastian could not have found any sort of comeback to this. Nor could he have found out how the hell Dave had come to this conclusion about him. He simply stared, incredulous, as Dave exited the stall. Then it dawned on him.

Why did he want Dave to leave? Maybe… No, not maybe. Certainly because he was the first one who wanted to stay. He had to keep him here. This was it, the one chance he would ever have at honesty.

"Wait."

He stammered. He had never stammered before. Guess there weren't much firsts Dave hadn't managed to put him through. He breathed out one more sentence.

"Dave, don't go."


	6. Chapter 6

He'd never asked for someone to be there. He wasn't used to it, didn't want to get used to it either, but he wanted _Dave_ to... Fuck the contradictions, now he wanted Dave to stay.

Dave stopped, took a step back and grabbed his wrists gently, just waiting for more directions from Sebastian. Their eyes locked and suddenly there weren't any thoughts to think, just a complete blankness in Sebastian's mind. Soon, he realized there were just feelings to feel. He concentrated on that. Well, he focused on the heat.

It was spreading, and fast. Cascading from Dave's hands, penetrating his clothes, invading his entire body. The stirring, at its most intense deep in his abdomen, he knew it.

Lust.

Fuck.

He just wanted to leap forward, to push his entire body against Dave's. To do a lot more than that.

Fuck.

It wasn't worse than anything else. It was _the_ worst. This wasn't the usual desire he was feeling, the arousal that came from the chase or the wanting. No, it was the one from being wanted, cared about. The one that came from feelings he thought would never come back.

And it was triggered by Dave.

"_No, no. Please. Not Dave."_ he thought. He couldn't, not with Dave. It was too close, complicated, unnerving, hopeless.

Idly, he got a random thought. He had been right from the start: Dave was dangerous. It was all crumbling down. It didn't matter what he could do, or what he wanted. All that mattered what was he felt, along with his inability to resist it.

He gave in, very simply. Two steps forward, right into Dave's arms.

Dave tensed at the sudden proximity. However, he didn't let go. Sebastian made him do so when he raised his hands and Dave's arms fell limply at his sides.

"Seb… What are you doing?" Dave murmured. He almost sounded as scared as Sebastian felt. Funny, it actually made him braver.

"Shhh." It was his turn to reach and to wrap Dave's arms around his waist.

"I-I need this Dave." he said.

He searched Dave's eyes for a sign of rejection, there was none. Dave looked confused, sure, but actions spoke louder than looks. When Sebastian leaned forward and captured Dave's mouth, when the kiss that started languid turned into a devouring battle, he got his first hint. When Dave's hands gained confidence and started to explore, palming every inch they could reach with something greater than enthusiasm, he was more than sure of the answer.

Dave really wanted him, really wanted this. It wasn't delusion or pity. He could have pushed him away, just like he did minutes ago but he hadn't, not this time. The realization made his head spin.

The heat was soon everywhere, his hands holding on to Dave's hips and Dave's grip on his waist being the highest points. He kissed Dave more forcefully, pushing him against the door. It squeaked under the impact. Not a problem in itself, except it snapped Dave out of the moment. He started to mumble half-heartedly into Sebastian's mouth.

Gliding his lips away from Dave's, Sebastian reassured him in between eager, sloppy kisses spread across Dave's jaw.

"Don't think. Please. I need this."

_Come on, say it,_ his mind screamed. He obeyed.

"I need you."

Dave could not respond to such a line, nor defend himself against it. Not this time, since it was true. He buried his head in the crook of Dave's neck. It was a magic moment, during which he could taste Dave's skin at his leisure, nipping, licking, biting gently occasionally. Anything to keep busy, to stop him from saying even more than he already had. The words "_I need something real._" were so damn close, he had to do something to keep them at bay.

The breathy, deep moans he was eliciting from Dave flooded his ears. Delicious. "Kiss me again." he whispered against this skin he was tasting ferociously. He lifted his head, waiting. His eyes closed of their own will. He didn't wait long, Dave's mouth was on his again, tentative yet firm. He might not be the connoisseur but he compensated with a fervor Sebastian had never seen before.

He took advantage of this enthusiasm, used it as a catalyst. His hands tangled in Dave's shirt, fisted the clothing and started to lift it up. Dave recoiled a bit. Clearly he saw where Sebastian intended to go.

"But… I never…" he whispered, flustered. Sebastian smiled lightly, tugged the shirt over Dave's head, who numbly cooperated.

"It's OK, I know." he replied, letting the garment fall on the floor and sliding his own down his shoulders.

He shrugged it off barely in time, because Dave was pulling him back into his warm embrace yet again. It seemed as though all caution had been thrown to the wind and he was almost frantic in his retaliation. Their lips collided once more, never sated, their tongues caressing, never satisfied. Sebastian slipped his hands up, ghosting over Dave's back quickly before getting lost in his slightly damp hair. He pushed himself forward, felt his bare chest meet Dave's as they almost crashed into the wall. He hissed as if the contact made with his scar had hurt either of them. Force of habit, force of the fear. It took him a second to realize that Dave hadn't reacted to the touch, outside of continuing to kiss him senseless. Right then, he felt another line being crossed. He wasn't afraid anymore.

It escalated quickly. He removed his hands from Dave's body just long enough to unbutton his pants and push them down, along with his boxers. He didn't wait for permission and did the same to Dave. They both kicked off their shoes and the bundle of clothing at their feet blindly, unwilling to break the kiss. His legs curled around Dave's, his arms looped around his neck. His hyper-sensitive skin tingled all over. Another body pressed against his own, naked, completely. He could barely remember how that used to feel like. No way had it been as unnerving, as overwhelming back then, with Domenic. No, this was feverish. He undulated against Dave, increased the friction their joined erections were creating. It wasn't enough. The rhythm accelerated when he rolled his hips in the manner he was so used to.

Soon, Dave was gasping in his ear, he was too, their sweaty cheeks glued tightly. It was becoming too much, too soon. He tried to hold off, to make it last. It was important, on so many levels, to make this matter. To savor the touch of Dave's rough hands, the woody, heady smell of his neck, he tried to absorb it all and save it. It was as much a first for him than it was one for Dave, in the end.

It held no importance. He wasn't able to resist. So his legs climbed up Dave's, locked around his waist. Rocking his hips hard, holding on tightly to Dave's strong neck, there was no way he would be able to stand it very long. It didn't help when Dave seemed to cast all reservations aside. His hands travelled down, grabbed Sebastian's ass and brought it closer. Their cocks now perfectly aligned made for a devastatingly powerful sensation. He breathed out incoherent moans as the pleasure started to pulse inside of him, he pushed forward again and again, until…

He came, so violently that his entire body shook from the inside out and his vision disappeared for a few seconds. Time stood still while he regained control, panting in rapidly, head thrown back. Dave stood just as still, motionless, voiceless. Sebastian could feel his cooling cum getting smeared on his stomach. He moved carefully, untangled his legs with precaution. Their moist skins felt glued together, he didn't want to hurt him.

He had the feeling that Dave's lack of reaction was his way of dealing with what had just happened. One look at his face, once he was back on the ground and stable enough to risk it, confirmed that the jock was at least partially freaked out. He smiled lightly, tried to make him feel more comfortable. Dave flashed him back a wobbly smile. Maintaining eye contact, Sebastian reached blindly for the bundle of towels forgotten on the toilet tank. A few random swipes took care of the mess on his body. He dropped them afterwards and automatically his hands returned to Dave's shoulders. They didn't stay there.

Hands that were merely gripping started to wander. Discovered the strong planes of Dave's upper chest and moved down. His long fingers grazed lightly through the scarce rough hairs, lower, lower, while his knees gave out and he sank to the floor. Holding his breath, he looked up, to assess Dave's frame of mind. All he could see was that his head was tilted back, his expression one of tight, strong concentration.

That's when it truly changed. Before, it had been about himself, maybe more personal, more intense, but still mostly selfish. Now, seeing this boy, this man, being so compliant, trusting… Dave, who never had any reason to trust him. Dave, who had no experience, who wasn't even his type, who wasn't supposed to like him, wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. Dave remained, he was letting him. Suddenly, for once, he wanted to do more.

Despite legs turned to jelly and still quivering, despite a brain still fogged by post-orgasmic bliss and a whirlwind of emotions inside, he could still think. Enough to put some of these emotions into words.

_Go ahead. Plunge. Touch him. Thank him._

Love him.

No. He could not have thought that. No way. He did not want to think it.

Too bad. It couldn't be helped.

He let out a shaky breath before starting to drop small, hesitant kisses down Dave's stomach. Feeling quaking muscles and fluttering skin under his mouth gave him a surge of confidence. He kept on, alternated nips, licks and simple brushing of the lips. Once he reached a little lower, where remnants of his own peak were lingering, he could only do one thing, He stuck his tongue out, and with quick, precise licks, cleaned it all off.

"Seb… wha.. Fuck…" Dave uttered in a trembling voice. Sebastian smiled against Dave's skin, gave one last lap and licked his lips. It felt good, being able to extract this kind of reaction. Not that he would usually doubt his skills, but in this odd situation, the reassurance was like a victory.

It was not enough. Dave's cock was right in his face, throbbing and begging for attention. He grasped it lightly, stroked it deftly a few times. Another mumble from Dave, along with a harsh thrust that destabilized Sebastian. Not for long and he quickly resumed his administrations. Long, careful strokes, with his thumb varying the pressure along the length. Given the way the member was pulsing, Dave wasn't far behind. Sebastian, however, wanted to make to most of out of this. He slowed down his hand and ran his mouth over the smooth head.

Dave gasped audibly, his hands disappeared in Sebastian's hair and he pushed down. Sebastian complied and opened up. The gasp turned into a strangled cry as soon as he started swirling his tongue around Dave's cock. It didn't take much after that. Two, maybe three bobs of the head, a skillful squeeze at the base… Hands pushed him further, hips bucked once, hard. It was just enough of a warning. He brought one hand to Dave's hip, brought him even closer. Just in time. Dave's cock swelled, all movement ceased and warm cum flooded his mouth.

Mindfully, Sebastian let Dave's softening member slip out and swallowed. By a seemingly mutual agreement, both holds were released, Dave slumped back against the cabin wall while Sebastian stepped back. At that moment, with the adrenaline wearing off, the headiness being pushed away by reality, Sebastian felt the air changing. Or so he thought, because Dave still sported a blissful smile. He returned it, even if Dave could not see it, and got up, picking up his clothes and Dave's at the same time.

He was in no rush to cover up. A personal success, something more to add to the list of what he owed to Dave. Not that it bothered him.

Dave finally opened his eyes, stared straight at Sebastian. A stare he didn't hold for long, feeling rather shy for some reason. They didn't speak, except for the silent _thank you_ Dave gave Sebastian after taking his clothes off his hands. They got dressed quickly, exchanging furtive glances. Then side-by-side at the sink, trying to tame messed up hair and tone down their flushed faces, Sebastian felt better. Bolder. He finished first, surprisingly and waited impatiently by the door for Dave to be done. Dave stood nervously beside him, opened his mouth. He didn't let him speak, putting a finger on his lips and linking their hands, and led him out.

They ran outside, Sebastian's hand holding onto Dave's fast. He felt excited, rushed. Happy. Content. He just wanted to be out in the open, to feel the fresh night air on his face, with Dave. Once they went past the main room, the entrance and reached the parking lot, he stopped, let go of Dave's hand, turned around and rested his forearm on Dave's shoulders. This was suddenly very natural, very right. He felt like doing it and he just did it. As if he was liberated from himself, or whatever was holding him back before.

But there was something in Dave's expression, something he had been too carried away to notice before. Something that put an instant dampening on his mood.

"What's the matter" he asked breathlessly. Looking more for a confirmation than an actual reply.

He knew that look. Shame. Dave was ashamed of what he just did. While it wasn't the first time someone would have regretted having sex with Sebastian, he had actually thought Dave would not wear that expression. He had… hoped he wouldn't.

"It's just.. I didn't think my first time would be like this."

He immediately knew that it wasn't the only trouble on Dave's mind. He grabbed his hair, forced him to look him in the eyes. "What else?" he hissed.

The reply came instantly. "Nothing." Dave looked away, even worse, he pulled away from Sebastian. Not just shame, there was guilt in his demeanor. He could have spotted it from a mile. The dots connected in his brain at the speed of light.

"Fuck, it's Hummel, isn't it? You still have a thing for him, right?" He walked away. Wide-eyed, he stared at Dave, who didn't say anything. Not agreeing but not denying it either.

"Shit, he was the guy you were asking me about. Fuck Dave, how dumb are you?" His throat tightened all of a sudden, as he felt the rush of realization and its cold emotions rising in him. How dumb had _he_ been, being so careless? A mistake he was willing to stop in its tracks.

Dave's head was bowed, his feet shuffling lightly the rubbles scattered in the parking lot. He couldn't meet Sebastian's eyes. This avoidance cemented his intentions. The weak, emotional Seb was fading. Good old razor-sharp Sebastian was lurking back.

He crossed his arms over his chest, took another few steps back. If he was going to do this, he needed distance. Then he waited, patiently. Waited for Dave to question the silence, to look at him. Predictably, he did, even sooner than Sebastian expected. When Dave looked up, eyes worried, perplexed, he actually felt bad, for a micro-second. It sure looked like he might have presumed more than what was really going on. Too late, the damages were done, on both parts. He stared deep into Dave's eyes, made sure his confidence was back before speaking.

"Really, Dave, that's pathetic. You're just so stupid, it's hard to believe. You think you'll have a chance with Gay Face, ever? You know what's gonna happen, you know, **in the real world**? He's going to reject you so fast, your head's going to spin. Blaine and him will never break up, mostly because they're too oblivious to realize there's much better anywhere else, but still. You'll be heartbroken, someone will use this to his advantage and that'll be it."

"Actually, someone just did." he added in a clear, merciless voice. Lying blatantly used to be easy, this time it took all his self-control to make it convincing.

He cracked a smile. Like it could fix him back up, also to hurt Dave more. "You're gonna be a joke Dave. Always."

"You-You can't mean that… Not after tonight…" Dave countered weakly.

Sebastian swallowed the lump in his throat, stared without seeing. Unwilling to see. "I do." he said blankly.

He turned on his heels and walked briskly away. He blocked out Dave's pleading, broken voice, calling him back. He chose instead to listen to the random, raging thoughts inside, now let free since he didn't have to maintain a façade for Dave.

Fucker. Kurt fucking Hummel, messing up everything for him again. And Dave, using him, snaking his way in, pulling him out in the open, only to…

Enough. He shook his head impatiently, entered his car and drove away without so much of a glance behind him. Enough of Dave, enough of this.

He had fully intended on never going back to Scandals after this screw-up. Except, when you have only one outlet, one place where you can do whatever's necessary to purge a bad day, you can't really abandon it.

That's why he went back. Snorted shit in his little corner, knocked back shots, got lost in the beat on the dance floor. There was a fair amount of new guys coming to the bar, fresh victims to his seduction techniques. Every night a new guy, he never even had to go back to one of them.

Dave was nowhere to be seen during those nights. Sebastian was willing to admit, even if it was just to himself, that he was relieved of this absence. He had gotten too close, gotten him to admit things, to feel things. So he kept busy, at school, with the Warblers, with lacrosse, any way he can. Whenever it got too much, he came to Scandals and tried to forget, again, in any way he knew.

What made it bad is that a part of him wanted to remember. Not just Dave, but what he had said, how he had made him feel. Complex emotions, scary even. Passion, jealousy, closeness. Whenever he was feeling brave, he basked in the memories. They were all that remained, since he was too scared to ask for more, or just to apologize.


	7. Chapter 7

Knock on the door. Loud and decided. "Last call guys, better come out now or I'm getting the master key! Smythe, wrap it up." the bartender yells.

Sebastian snickers bitterly. Sure, the one time he isn't screwing a random twink against the wall, he gets hushed out for that very reason. Figures. While he still has the nerves to control himself, he pulls himself up, turns around. Carefully avoiding his reflection, he grabs his now-worthless phone and shoves it in his pocket.

It's harder outside of the bathroom. It's the real world, not just the memories. Bars are places to make you forget. It turns out, in the end, that this one is the exception, for Sebastian at least. He can't escape David here. The walk back though the club and to his car, he's barely aware of it, but every snippet he sees, it's, well, hurtful.

That hallway, where Dave stripped him bare, so to speak.

That barstool, where he sat when they met.

The dance floor, where the one accident that started it all happened.

The parking lot, where he abandoned him.

Safely behind the wheel of his Porsche, hands gripping the smooth leather, it should feel like home. _Should_ being the operative word.

He wants to call, his hand actually reaches for the phone before he remembers that it's been rendered useless. Furiously, his foot pushes down on the accelerator. He searches around for a few minutes, while speeding on the deserted boulevard, when it catches his eyes. A relic: a telephone booth. The car stops in a screech a few feet of it.

He runs to the booth, leaves the door wide open, just rips the phone of its handle and pours whatever change was in his pocket in the slot. For a long time now he's known Blaine's number by heart, for whatever reason, he doesn't want to ponder. It's quickly dialed. He rests his forehead against the dirty glass, miles always from minding it. An unexpected cooling breeze swivels around him, an invisible solace, liberating a deep sigh from his clenched mouth.

It rings, and rings, and rings. He doesn't hang up. He'll let it ring forever if needed. _All the time in the world baby._

"H-Hello?"

He almost apologizes when he hears the sleepy voice. Then he remembers that he doesn't explain himself, ever. Well, not to Blaine anyway.

"Just tell me he's gonna be fine." he murmurs.

"Sebastian? Is that you?"

"Fuck Blaine, yes it's me! Will you just answer me?" Sebastian screams. _Close your eyes, yell, sure, it'll make everything better…_

"I-I don't know. Kurt called the hospital; they could only tell him that he was stable. The rest is up to him I guess." He hears Blaine talk back faintly in the receiver.

_Stable_. Close enough.

_Click_.

Instinctively, he's hanging up without so much as a _thank you_. He's got what he needed to hear.

Clasping his hands on his nape, he reminds himself, again, that one Sebastian Smythe does not do certain things.

Like crying, like worrying for a guy.

Like caring.

He keeps telling himself that when the tears stream down his face, when his heart stings with relief. A hysterical peal of laughter comes out of his mouth.

_Damn Dave, you better make it through. Or I'll have to come down there and make sure you do._

Maybe that's what he does. Maybe it's time to take a risk. Maybe it's time to see Dave outside of Scandals.


End file.
